


Drops

by sproutypants



Series: Tales [2]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:18:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5072395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sproutypants/pseuds/sproutypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanghyuk's eyelids were starting to feel droppy without him realising it. </p>
<p>"Are you my guardian?..." He slurred as Taekwoon was sliding him back on the mattress, pulling the covers up to his chin.</p>
<p>He fell asleep before hearing the answer, two water droplets falling on his closed eyelids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drops

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt that i submitted on tumblr @butimaginevixx: "imagine the reason why Sanghyuk grew so much during the past few years is that Taekwoon waters him in his sleep like a tiny sprout"
> 
> I just moved in and posting this without any wifi because i'm too excited to share.

The night was cold and dark, even the moon hiding from the freezing gust of wind blowing the large fields. The glass window trembled against the blast that flattened the tender grass, restless, trying to breach into the warmth of the tiny room. Swirls of air engulfed in breaches leaving hollow rattles resonating into the sleeping home, drown as whispers into the little boy resting upstairs ears. His sleep was thick and heavy as one of a dreamer who wasn't born to live but to imagine. The anger of the weather, though, didn't seem to calm down. Spirits were knocking onto the glass, scraping, scratching to get to the soft child's body. A violent blast of wind jerked the window open, rattles and moans trying to break into the room but he didn't wake up, merely shifted in his bed, and the spirits sneaked their way up to his sleeping silhouette under the blankets. Hushes and whispers elevated around him, the darkness growing into something thicker, buzzing and milling, crawling towards the kid's skin. Shadows grew over the bed and the boy groaned slightly, furrowing his brows. The spirits were dancing around him, their emaciated essence growing in height and volume as the darkness was continuously growing.

 

Some were lurking towards the now troubled child, tossing around in the grip of a hectic nightmare, when suddenly a crack could be heard, and everything stopped. The world as if to let him sleep peacefully again, quieted down in an instant.

 

A young man had appeared into the room.

 

The darkness of his hair were blurring into the night, his white gown covering his body to his ankles. The spirits hungry for the little boy's youth retracted as he swiftly snapped his hand into the air, and they vanished with faint pained screams. He closed the window and sealed it tightly to keep other menacing entities away. Then, he walked to the bed, where the young boy had now calmed down, and on his straight face passed the reflect of tenderness. He ruffled the boy's soft hair, the paleness of his hand cutting through the darkness of the strands. He was growing well.

 

He reached for something else then, a tiny, silver watering can that came out of his sleeve and, bending down to see the boy's face more clearly, he poured exactly three drops onto his head. At the place of the falling drops blossomed three tiny sprouts, stretching through black hair, fading as quickly as they arrived. Then, just like the sprouts, the young man faded back into the night, the ghost of a hand stroking the kid's head. He was smiling in his sleep.

 

The sun chased away the remaining shadows hanging outside of the window, weakly scratching and burning their gangrenous limbs onto the sealed glass. His rays entered the room, easily getting through the barrier set during the night to embrace it with light. Everything was quiet except for the footsteps by the other side of the door.

 

"Sanghyuk," a young man entered the room, and his bare feet walking on the parquet made the wooden slats crack like a winter's bonfire. He slipped into the child's bed for a hug. "Wake up."

 

Sanghyuk stirred and opened an eye.

 

"Hakyeon!" He grinned and threw his arms around him as he kissed his forehead and hair. "You're back home," he slurred softer, hugging him tightly. "Did you come back during the night?"

 

Hakyeon ruffled his hair. "You were fast asleep when I came here." Then, backing up to see his face more clearly, he asked: "How are you baby sprout?"

 

Sanghyuk opened his mouth but the growl of his stomach replied quicker than any words.

 

"Hungry much?" Hakyeon laughed, straightening and getting ready to leave the warmth of the bed, "Let's have breakfast downstairs!"

 

Sanghyuk nodded and followed him, his hair all disheleved.

 

"You've grown a lot, haven't you?" He exclaimed when he got up.

 

"Not enough," he pouted. "I'm waiting for my turn to come."

 

"Don't you worry about that."

 

"But Hakyeon!" Sanghyuk shook his head and shot him a wide-eyed glare, "I'm still the shortest in my class!"

 

"Your guardian knows his job, Hyuk." Hakyeon patted his head and cut him before he could protest by greeting their mother, who was setting the table.

 

Sanghyuk pouted and went to sit on his chair, surelevated by a pillow. He hated that pillow somehow, despite its fluffiness and comfortable-ness. It reminded him every day that he was still the shortest.

 

"Sanghyuk, why are you frowning dear?" His mother smiled and placed a tray of his favorite scones before him, "You're going to get wrinkles before you hit twenty if you keep on making faces."

 

Hakyeon pinched his cheek and stuffed a scone in his mouth. "Little prawn is unhappy because his guardian isn't making him grown yet!"

 

"I'm the shortest and I'm going to go to middle school next year! I've been asking every night for more centimeters but he won't give me any!" Sanghyuk lifted his gaze to his mother, eyebrows furrowed, but she only smiled wider.

 

"Your time will come, sweetheart. They know what they're doing. Guardians have been protecting this family ever since your great-great-grandfather. And yours has been doing a pretty good job at protecting you, don't you think?"

 

"No one's out there to get me, ma," the kid rolled his eyes and pouted, picking at the scone in front of him.

 

Hakyeon hummed. "That's not what the monster under your bed told me."

 

"There isn't any monster," Sanghyuk muttered.

 

"Right. And you know why is that? Because your guardian chased it."

 

"You keep talking about them but they never went to visit me!"

 

To this, Hakyeon only took a sip of his coffee and laughed.

 

"Just be patient, little brother."

 

The sun stayed up all day and Sanghyuk went on an adventure with Hakyeon and the sheeps. Up on the hill they sat and Sanghyuk listened to stories from the capital, where pavements replaced grass and the houses were piling up one on another. Hakyeon told him about the city and about other stories, ones he learnt in books, and some that Sanghyuk knew already but just wanted to hear again. Then, as the sun descended in the sky and as they did as well down the hill, following the sheeps, he spoke again:

 

"Why won't my guardian come and visit me?"

 

"Maybe they are shy."

 

"What was yours like?"

 

Hakyeon took some time to think, hoarding the sheeps with him, before he replied.

 

"It's very blurry, but he used to sing a lot to me in my dreams."

 

They sat on the wooden porch, removing their muddy shoes.

 

"His voice sounded like an angel's. I used to pray every night and ask for him to come and sing me to sleep, but i always ended up falling asleep first. Then..."

 

His tone dropped lower and Sanghyuk nodded to ask him to tell more. Hakyeon's eyes wavered on the hills as the last rays were disappearing behind the horizon.

 

"He just stopped coming."

 

Silence fell and Hakyeon still stared at the same point with a faraway look on his features. Sanghyuk laid a small hand on his kneecap, trying to comfort him.

 

"It's okay Hakyeon," he puckered his lips, and his brother's gaze dropped at their feet touching on the porch, "Mom always says that they're still watching over us somehow. Yours must be still singing somewhere."

 

There was a moment of stillness, before Hakyeon turned to him with his smile back on her face, and winded an arm around his shoulders.

 

"Let's go inside before spirits lurk out to get your soul," he kissed Sanghyuk's forehead and they got inside the warm home, the kid brushing off his brother's comment as a joke.

 

He did not hear the crack on the door as the darkness was setting on the land.

 

That night, Sanghyuk finally dreamt. He was standing in a white room, with no limits, nothing in view. Barefooted.

 

"I must be dreaming," he told himself, and then the green and fresh grass of the land just appeared under him. The sky strechted into a deep blue over is head and wind started to blow. In his ears passed the whistles of the autumn wind and the cracks of fresh leaves.

 

He was into the plain.

 

It was the first time that Sanghyuk was out at night. His mother had always forbidden him to go out or stay after the sunset. She always said spirits could get him. But Sanghyuk didn't believe her. He was ten already, and he thought he was grown enough to survive out there. Under the moonlight, the plain did not seem more frightening than in broad daylight. There were hisses all around though, and they were getting into his head with sneaky whistles that resonated into his brain for a few seconds.

 

"That's just the wind," he told himself, walking with careful steps, lifting his gaze to look at the stars.

 

Until he felt his feet rooting into the floor and getting swallowed by the cold soil, freezing him to the bone.

 

"Mom!" He cried, trying to get out of the mud, but his feet did not want to carry him anywhere. His limbs were starting to get paralyzed by the frost and his voice died as well. Shadows were starting to dance around him, covering the stars, slipping between the grass, lurking out for him. He could see their forms growing out of the darkness and getting closer, until they could nearly reach him. Even his tears were starting to feel cold on his cheeks.

 

There was a snap then, and everything shifted.

 

Sanghyuk was seating on his bed, heavily breathing. The blankets were pulled up to his lap. In the center of the room stood a young man holding a watering can, arm stretched towards the window, and the trembling of the wind ceased in the instant. Sanghyuk couldn't tell if he was still dreaming or not.

 

"You're awake," the young man turned to him once the window was sealed again. "I'm sorry I didn't get in time to chase them. They get quicker every night. That's because you're growing, aren't you? You've been asking so fervently."

 

"Who are you?" Sanghyuk's voice was weak and cracky. He straightened himself in his bed. "Are you a spirit?"

 

"I'm Taekwoon," the man only said, keeping a straight face. He seemed expressionless. His voice, though, was light and soft like a fairy's. He approached and extended a hand, making Sanghyuk gasp and jerk back, but there wasn't any space to escape.

 

"I'm not going to hurt you," Taekwoon said then, and as he patted Sanghyuk's head, the kid's body relaxed. He felt incredibly secure. "Now, go back to sleep... Sleep will make you grow."

 

Sanghyuk's eyelids were starting to feel droppy without him realising it.

 

"Are you my guardian?..." He slurred as Taekwoon was sliding him back on the mattress, pulling the covers up to his chin.

 

He fell asleep before hearing the answer, two water droplets falling on his closed eyelids.

 

The following evening was already time for Hakyeon to go back to the town. Sanghyuk sat on his bed while he packed his bags, ready to leave within the next train. They had called a cab to get him safely to the station, and their mother had made him a new protection charm that hung on his neck, moving as he shoved the last of his clothes into bags.

 

"I think I saw my guardian yesterday," Sanghyuk said, balancing his feet in the air, just when Hakyeon had closed the last bag.

 

"Really?" His brother smiled and started carrying his things downstairs, urging him to get down as well. "How were they?"

 

"I don't remember well..."

 

Hakyeon looked back at him upon his shoulder. He was pouting.

 

"It's okay Sanghyuk," he said. Then, he put down his bags and climbed the few remaining stairs between us to squish him into a hug. "They're always watching over us."

 

Sanghyuk hugged him tightly back.

 

"Do you really have to go?"

 

"I do. But I'll come back so quickly, you won't even have the time to miss me."

 

"I love you," he murmured in his hair, and Hakyeon kissed the crown of his head, humming:

"I love you too."

 

Then the door opened on their mother, motioning to the cab behind her, and the two of them quickly embraced one another in a tight hug before Hakyeon and his bags engulfed themselves into the night. His mom let Sanghyuk keep the door open until the engine started roaring and the cab flashlights disappeared behind the hills, taking away the smile and wave of the hand of his brother. The wind howled then, and Sanghyuk could feel a shiver coming down his spine; he closed the door hastily.

 

That night, he drank a whole cup of warm goat milk before going to sleep, thinking about Hakyeon and his stare piercing the horizon.

 

He could've swore the cab driver was singing when his brother got in.

 

A season went by and Hakyeon didn't come back. Letters kept on coming though, and Sanghyuk read them in the morning, remembering his brother's voice, helping him cope with loneliness. He studied his lessons at home, as they kept on coming -- by letter too, the weather getting on too bad for him to even think of walking the miles separating him from the nearest town and school. His mother herself was staying at home and doing paperwork when the rain got too strong.

 

She had made him another charm to keep him from spirits that grew stronger as he grew up. Sanghyuk didn't understand everything that she said, but he could hear now the spirits scratching at his window when the wind howled too strong and he couldn't find sleep, and it scared him to the bone.

 

"There is nothing more dangerous than a soul full of fear," his mother had said, though, and every time, Sanghyuk shut his eyes closed and prayed, a string of gold light connecting him to the sky. His guardian was watching over him.

 

Sometimes Sanghyuk could see him in his dreams, faraway, with his long white gown and silky dark hair, walking on water with his tiny can, water lilies blossoming around his feet. He would try and call him then, "Taekwoon!"

 

Taekwoon would turn to him and smile, and Sanghyuk's young heart would skip a beat.

 

They spent some dreams together without many words. Taekwoon wasn't really speaking. He was listening, though, and at the end, he would lift his can to let drops fall on Sanghyuk. It would make him grow and grow until reaching the sky, until he realised he had turned into a tree, and would wake up.

 

More seasons came, and Sanghyuk went to live in the city with his brother.

 

The dreams kept on happening until Sanghyuk turned twenty-one. He was persuaded they would keep on happening, as they didn't stop after the age Hakyeon told him. One night, though, when they sat in the grass with Taekwoon, the latter lifted his can with a very attentive gaze on him.

 

"You've grown a lot," he said, and it gave goosebumps to Sanghyuk. The young man laughed nervously.

 

"That's because you've been watering me a lot."

 

Taekwoon nodded, his stare getting softer. He tilted the watering can above his head and one, two, three droplets fell.

 

"Don't tell me I'm going to wake up already," Sanghyuk whined, but Taekwoon wasn't listening. He tilted the can some more and a last drop fell.

 

Then nothing.

 

Sanghyuk's blood curdled.

 

"It's finished," Taekwoon said then.

 

"What?" Sanghyuk protested, but he felt his limbs stretch and grow already. "You aren't going to leave, are you?"

 

He tried to find reassurance into the other's eyes, trying to ask him to still come, even when he would be grown, even when he wouldn't be a child anymore. Taekwoon smiled and waved at him. Leaves blinded him and his voice died in a crack of wood.

 

That morning, Sanghyuk cried for the first time in five years.

 

 

Another season came, along with many more and the memories started fading like childhood dreams in the morning. Life had gotten over Sanghyuk. He became so busy, the memory of Taekwoon, the spirits, everything, got swallowed by material life. The only fragile link was kept by his mother, who would make him a new protection charm every time he went back home. The whispers of the wind were easily replaced by the roaring of car motors and the shuffle of people walking to the subway.

 

"Hakyeon," the sound kept on getting in his head as he was trying to call his brother. "Where are you?"

 

He was standing near the road, waiting for his brother to come and pick him up after his classes. He didn't know the neighborhood and his phone was running out of both signal and battery.

 

The voice on the other side of the line kept on getting cut. "I told you we were going to the movies with Jaehwan!"

 

"Seriously? But I--"

 

The line cut off then, his phone out of power, and Sanghyuk cursed. He started to cross the road and go to that café to the other side, hoping to find something to plug in his phone.

 

There was a honk then, lights blinding him and something grabbing him by his sweater, dragging him backwards. Arms wrapped around him and locked him into an embrace that didn't feel familiar. A car passed right in front of his feet.

 

"That was close," a soft voice said over his head. It sounded like a string of milk into Sanghyuk's night infusion. "Are you alright?"

 

Sanghyuk's heart was still beating hard in his ribcage, eyes rived on the car that was turning around the corner.

 

"What a prick!" A huff escaped him, his trembling hands pushing back his bangs to wipe off the cold sweat that had formed on his forehead. "The light was yellow!"

 

"Can you get up?" The voice asked next.

 

Sanghyuk nodded, but when he tried, his legs refused to carry him.

 

"Oh come on," he grumbled to himself, finding that he was already upset enough not to add this. "I'm sorry; can you help me get back on my feet?"

 

There was an aknowledging hum and the same arms that embraced him earlier pulled him up. With still weak limbs, Sanghyuk turned to the stranger.

 

"Thank you!" He immediately bowed ninety degrees, "You just saved me. Can I do anything to express my gratitude?"

 

"Not, it's okay," the young man who was now facing him dismissed him with a tiny smile, "I don't need anything. You're alright, that's enough for me."

 

His resemblance with Taekwoon was troubling, but the memory of his guardian that was once strong had faded away quickly, and Sanghyuk just figured he was mixing things up.

 

"No, I insist," he spoke up again, eyes not leaving his savior's, "There must be something I can do for you. Anything. Just ask me."

 

"Well," the man scratched the back of his head, his gaze diverting towards the flower shop behind him. Sanghyuk had noticed it on his way to classes. "You can always help me close the shop, I guess."

 

Sanghyuk nodded, agreeing with a smile. The young man lead him and he followed his instructions of taking all of the flower pots inside. He even found somewhere to plug in, quickly sending a text to Hakyeon to let him know where he was. The young man from the flower shop wasn't very talkative, but the calm settled into the room was soothing. It reminded Sanghyuk of his own home, way back in the countryfield; he was starting to feel homesick. He watched him water every plant, with his tiny silver can, amazed by the way it seemed to give immediate strenght to the sprouts. This reminded him of something else.

 

"Are you feeling better?" The young man asked later on, lifting his head from his flowers to study his face. Sanghyuk nodded. "I can walk you home if you want."

 

It was agreed that the two of them would go home together, so that Sanghyuk would know the path for the next time, and they wrapped themselves into their coats before closing the iron curtain, still in silence. Despite the roaming of the city milling at night, the atmosphere was blissful and Sanghyuk was glad. The walk was peaceful, the man making sure Sanghyuk was always to the safe side of the road, on the inside, like a childen one would walk to school. Eventually, they reached Sanghyuk's building, and he realised as they got to the door:

"I haven't even told you my name yet."

 

The young man smiled a little. "What's your name?" His voice was still as soft as a fluff.

 

"Han Sanghyuk."

 

"That's a nice name," he observed. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he added, "Be careful Sanghyuk, and come by anytime you feel like it."

 

He nodded shortly then, as a goodbye, and went back on his track to get to his own house.

 

"Wait!" Sanghyuk called him as he was getting away, "What is your name?"

 

He turned back and a real smile painted on his features. Sanghyuk's heart skipped a beat.

 

"Jung Taekwoon."

 

He resumed his walking, and that's when Sanghyuk noticed.

 

Tiny sprouts were blossoming in the asphalt with each of his steps.

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to picture any romantic feelings or interactions because i believe the bond between them is on a more spiritual level. However, feel free to imagine whatever could happen after that meeting. I like to think something really pure and delicate was created between them.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! I'm really liking making this series.


End file.
